


Lend Me Your Lips

by Dragondizzy



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Other, kiss prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 13,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragondizzy/pseuds/Dragondizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompts from my Tumblr (http://dragondizzy.tumblr.com/). Pop along and send me one! :)</p><p>Each chapter now lists the prompt and pairing for easy perusal :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye Kiss - Alistair x Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair/Warden - A goodbye kiss

Alistair sighed, turning his palms to the fire to capture the warmth. The flickering light licked at the shadows around him, dancing over broken rock and ruin. The road stretched to infinity before him, but the journey would end soon.

Reaching for his pack, he rummaged around, cursing old bones and the cold. His fingers curled around his quarry, and he pulled free the crumpled paper.

Unfolding it, he couldn’t help but grin at the face smiling back at him, the portrait scratched and worn from handling. The twinkle in her eye, long golden hair swept to the side. Alistair could hear her voice, reprimanding him even now.

Brushing his lips to hers, he smiled sadly. He remembered running his hands through hair like spun gold, remembered kissing the soft mouth that held a smile just for him.

"I’ll see you soon my love."

The song was deafening now. It was a lullaby while he slept, and a chant when he was awake. Alistair slipped her image under his breastplate, anchoring her over his heart.

Forcing his tired legs to stand, he groaned as he hefted his shield onto his arm. Raising his sword with a weak, trembling arm, he ventured forth into the void. A small smile creased his face as he shuffled on, a warmth long forgotten spreading through him. Finally, he would be with her again.


	2. Secret Kiss - Cullen x F!Trevelyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/F!Trevelyan - Secret kiss.

The dance between them was driving her insane. A quick glance across the war table; a brush of arms passing in the corridor; a coy smile from a distance. Every time he appeared her heart quickened and her face flushed, a beacon to his presence. How no one had noticed, she wasn’t sure.

Confessing their feelings for each other had been awkward, yet perfect in its honesty. A stolen kiss on the battlements was the seal of affection, of _want_. Yet since then the shyness had returned, and hesitation was winning. 

Sighing as she wandered aimlessly through the garden, Evelyn lightly ran her fingers over the crystal grace winding its way up a pillar. The touch of his hand, the taste of his lips…it felt like fantasy, a torturous vision born from her own desire. Just one more kiss, something more than a suggestion, a secret that they could share… 

Passing along the stone gallery, she jumped when a hand gently gripped her arm and pulled her into the shady alcove. Another arm curled around her waist, and her breath hitched in her throat as she peered up into wide amber eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I…”

Cullen’s eyes were fixed on her mouth. Leaning forward, he pressed her up against the stonework, connecting them with a kiss. A gloved hand cupped her cheek as her eyes fluttered closed, and she lost herself in his soft caress. 

Breaking from her, he hovered for a moment, their noses rubbing, before stepping back. Glancing around them, he checked no one was near before stepping out into the walkway. A final warm smile and he left her, breathless against the wall. Listening to the clip of his boots fade away, Evelyn traced fingers over her lips, grinning like a fool. _It wasn’t just a dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would guys like me to put the list in the summary? Then you can send me a prompt in the comments? Let me know! :D


	3. Indifferent Kiss - King Alistair x Queen Anora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alistair/Queen Anora - Indifferent kiss

Alistair suppressed a yawn, shifting uncomfortably as they stood exposed on the balcony. Anora was addressing the crowd, her tone regal and commanding, but he wasn't paying attention. The fat pigeon lazily flapping its way over the mismatched roofs of the city was much more entertaining.

They had agreed early on that she would do the public speaking, something he was all too happy for her to do. His early attempts were lacking confidence and...sentences. However he was still dragged out, ever the kingly icon, and _advised_ to stand in silence. Crossing his arms, he scanned his gaze across the enraptured faces down below, and waited.

Her voice droned on, something about royal edicts and such. Alistair coughed, drawing a fleeting glare from his Queen, but she carried on regardless. Resisting the urge to cough again, he descended into the usual coping method of day dreaming.

_Darkspawn crashed through the city gates, attacking the crowd, screams and roars filling the air. He grabs the nearest sword from a guard, vaulting the balcony and driving it down into the skull of a hurlock. A woman sprints past, Grey Warden silver flashing in the evening sun as she whips daggers across a throat. Turning with a grin, she raises an eyebrow in question "Well, what are you waiting for?"_

The roar and whoops of the crowd jerked him back to reality, signalling the end of the speech. Anora's arm slipped through his, her face painted with a broad smile but her eyes looked at him in disdain. Stiffening at the contact, Alistair awkwardly bent and pecked her on the lips, straightening quickly and waving meekly to the throng. The cheers resumed, chants of 'King Alistair' and 'Queen Anora' echoing throughout the square. Retreating back into the castle, Anora snapped her arm away and strode off, not looking back. Alistair ambled off in the opposite direction, wondering if anyone would actually notice if he was replaced by a statue. If it had the crown on, probably not.


	4. Thank-the-Maker hug - Josephine x Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine/Leliana - Thank-the-Maker hug

Thick smoke, charred and bitter, burned in her lungs as they stumbled away from Haven. The path was where Chancellor Roderick had promised, hidden behind overgrown weeds and bracken. Josephine gagged and spluttered, staggering forwards as a black mist enveloped them all.

Haven was burning. The Inquisitor was left behind to face those red, crystalline monsters and an... _archdemon_? But she couldn't think of that now, couldn't dwell on who was alive, or dead - she had to keep going. Voices shouted around her, Cullen's commanding tone sounding from nearby. Lurching, she tripped over, hands sinking into freezing slush. Strong hands gripped under her arms and pulled her up sharply, pushing her forward on the trail.

Slowly she climbed, the air clearing as they rose higher, the piercing wind whipping through her dress. She could clearly see others around her now, trudging through the snow, dazed and confused. Up ahead she saw a figure beckoning, pointing out their destination. _Is that...Leliana?_

The hooded head turned, the rogue's gaze settling on Josie's face, a weary look of relief washing over her. Josephine hurried upwards, ignoring the numbness creeping through her legs, to fall into the other woman's embrace. Josephine buried her nose into smokey leather and clutched tightly. The fear of losing her ebbed away as she held steadfast, the warm body hugging back replacing it with reassurance.

"Josie, I'm here, I'm alive. We're alive."

Josephine released her, nodding as she coughed. The damp silk clinging to her body chilled to the bone, her teeth chattering as she shivered. Leliana slung an arm around her shoulders, and they started forward, tagging on to the solemn que.

A deafening crack made them whirl around. Watching in horror, a stone flew through the air and impacted the mountain, the thud echoing around the valley. Building from a whisper to a threatening roar, the peak split, a rush of snow cascading down towards the town. It swept over the sea of torches, snuffing them out in a mere second.

The dragon screeched and took to the air, wings pumping hard to escape the icy wrath bearing downwards. It barely clawed its way up before the avalanche hit, obliterating the walls and enveloping the buildings. Josephine's hand was gripping her face as they stood in silence, the carnage over as soon as it began. Haven was no longer burning. The glistening snow settled peacefully, the partially exposed tower of the chantry the only clue to what once stood, now a stone epitaph for a frozen grave.


	5. Thank-the-Maker hug - Cullen x Warrior F!Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/Warrior Inquisitor - Thank-the-Maker hug

_Inquisitor injured, send supplies._

Cullen stared at the report, as he had been for the past half hour. He flipped the paper over, as if more words would materialise with the movement, that he might find ones he missed. Nothing. Just four words, four measly words, that were enough to chill him to his core.

"Sir, your horse is ready - Adan has packed it with potions, balms, poultices -"

"Thank you recruit, I'll leave at once."

She was half a days hard ride away, too close for him not to go. Striding out of the tower, he jogged down the steps and pulled himself into the saddle of the steed waiting. Whirling it towards the gate, he nodded to the guard as he touched his heels to flanks, spurring the horse out of Skyhold and clattering across the bridge.

 _What if...?_ The sound of hooves pounding the ground filled his ears, echoing the hammering of his heart. Cullen bent low over the saddle, gaze fixed on the horizon. _What if I'm too late?_ No, no, he couldn't think like that. He would be there in time. _He had to be._

The Inquisition flag flapped lazily in the wind as he bore down on the camp, people bustling about the tents, a shout of greeting as he came to a halt. Cullen slid from the saddle, patting the huffing beast. A soldier approached and took the reigns.

"I brought the supplies, the Inquisitor, is she..."

The words caught in his throat as he scrutinised the man's face, looking for any flinch, any sign that might betray her fate. The expression stayed calm however, and he gestured into the camp. Following the line of his finger, Cullen felt the knot of tension in his stomach release in a wave of relief.

Blood-splattered, disheveled and sweaty, she was laughing, leaning heavily on her sword as she chatted to her companions. A thick bandage circled her waist, and her movements were stiff, but she was flesh and blood, standing mere paces away. Her face turned, eyes widening in surprise as she saw him, a smile curling the corner of her mouth.

In an instant his strides ate up the space between them, and he wrapped his arms around her body and held on tightly. He buried his face in her hair, smelling past the coppery tang of blood to the find scent that haunted his bed, his thoughts and his dreams. Her body shook as she laughed, arms snaking around his waist.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Ouch, not so tightly!"

Reluctantly he released her, sucking in a deep breath as he examined every inch. Cupping her face with a gloved hand, he smiled wearily.

"The next time you send a report, maybe...add a little more information?"


	6. Tipsy hug - Alistair x Elf F!Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair/F!Warden (Elf)

Alistair thumped his tankard on the table, ale slopping over his hand. Lyna giggled into her cup, watching as he started to excitedly wave his hands around his head.

“We're _actually_ alive! We saved everyone here, saved Redcliffe! Even that surly gentleman glaring at me over there.”

He swung his arm to point, and she barely managed to duck out of the way. Beer suds from his hand flew forward and sprayed all over her face. Pausing briefly in shock, they both burst out laughing.

“I'm...sorry...hahaha”

“You...sound....it.”

Panting the words out, Lyna gave in and threw her head back, clutching her stomach as laughter shook her. Alistair guffawed, wiping tears from his eyes, a hand placed on her shoulder.

“Here -”

He licked his thumb and proceeded to wipe the suds from her face, wobbling slightly as he did so. Lyna felt herself blushing, laughter reduced to sporadic chuckles. Gods, he was suddenly close.

Alistair paused, his hand cupping her face, thumb stroking her cheek.

“You blush all the way to the tips of your ears, did you know that?”

His finger traced from her cheek over the pointed tip of her ear. She stared at him, feeling said ears burn as he giggled, going red himself.

“Sorry...uh...what?”

“You ears...are...nice?”

Smiling woozily, his eyes slowly widened in horror as his brain caught up with his mouth. Lyna bit her lip to suppress fresh giggles.

“No, I didn't mean...uh...well they are... _Andraste_.”

Scraping his chair back, he stumbled to a stand, looking apologetic.

“I'm sorry..I should...go?”

“No!”

Lyna sprang to her feet, tripping on the chair leg and launching herself towards him. Arms flung around his neck in an effort to stop the fall, his arms catching her around the waist. Her face smacked into his chest, and she sucked in a gasp, her nose squished against him. Peering up slowly, she giggled at the goofy grin directed down at her. Finding her feet, she didn't let go. The feel of his arms tightening around her made her pulse quicken. Smiling warmly back, she settled into his embrace.

“No?”

“No...I like your ears too.”

 

 


	7. First Kiss - Cassandra x M!Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M!Inquisitor/Cassandra - First Kiss
> 
> Uses speech/poem from the game!

_Candles lit, flower petals...thrown._ Maxwell patted his pocket nervously, the book of poetry sitting snug against him. He went over the list in his mind for the umpteenth time.  _Wait, should I have kept the flowers whole? What if she likes them whole?_ Scuffing his foot on the ground, he chewed his lip. Could he find more flowers? Maybe there were some nearby.  _No, no time_ . Knowing him, he would find the ones she hated anyway.  _Maybe she hates these_ . Fingering the book again, he made himself stop. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and willed the worry to disappear.

The crack of a twig made him jump out of his skin.

“What...what have you done?”

Slipping the book from his jacket, he stumbled around. Opening to the correct page, Maxwell cleared his throat, not daring to look up.

“On aching branch do blossoms grow, the wind a hallowed breath.”

Stealing a glance, Cassandra stood transfixed, mouth gaping. Swallowing hard, he continued as he walked towards her, eyes flicking up to gauge her reaction.

“It carries the scent of honeysuckle, sweet as the lover's kiss.”

A small smile curled the corners of her mouth, and she tried to hide it behind her hand. Smirking at her in response, he laughed as she shoved him.

“It brings the promise of more tomorrows, of sighs and whispered bliss.”

Spinning, he wobbled to a knee in front of her, grinning like a fool.

'You can't be serious'

Maxwell shrugged, waiting with baited breath as he watched her look about, taking in the candles and flowers. Cassandra shook her head in disbelief. _Is this what she wanted?_ The pounding of his heart was convincing him it was going well, however.

“And _that's_ the poem you chose?”

She snatched the book from him, their hands brushing briefly.

“ _Carmenum di Amatus_. I thought this one was banned.”

Leaning back against a tree she sighed dreamily, turning the book over in her hands. Opening to the page, he couldn't help but watch her mouth as he slowly rose to his feet.

“His lips on mine speak words not voiced, a prayer which travels down my spine like flames that shatter night.”

Her gaze lingered on him as he walked slowly forward, circling around the tree. Maxwell clasped his hands behind his back, a failing attempt to control the shaking. _Maker._ He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

“His eyes reflect the heaven's stars, the Maker's light. My body opens, filled and blessed, my spirit there -”

“– not merely housed in flesh, but brought to life.”

Coming to stop at her shoulder, he peered over at the book. This was the closest they'd ever been. Her scent was intoxicating, and he stood, mesmerised, as their eyes met. Gulping, he raised an eyebrow, teetering forward slightly.

“Shall we read another?”

He could hear her breathing heavily. A look of confusion, followed by hope flashed across her face as they stared at each other. _Maybe...maybe it's not to be?_ Maxwell leant back, eyes shifting to the floor. He could feel his cheeks grow warmer.

“If -”

The words were muffled as lips smacked to his, and arms flung around his neck. Taking a second to register what was happening, he tentatively placed his arms around her. A small moan tickled his lips, and he kissed more deeply. Wrapping her in his embrace, he relished the feeling of holding her close. She had always been at arms length, untouchable. Now she was here in his arms, kissing so sweetly, he thought he must be dreaming.

Slowly, she coaxed him downwards, arms still locked about his neck. Gently lying her on the grass, Maxwell broke the kiss to trace a finger down the scar on her cheek. Realising that she was still holding the book, he teased it from her fingers, and lobbed it into the trees. Laughing, she tugged him back down into a kiss.

 


	8. Seductive Kiss - Cullen x F!Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/Lavellan - Seductive kiss

Cullen strode across the hall, the room dark but for a few torches flickering against the walls. Dressed in cotton shirt and breeches, he felt strangely naked – the missing weight of his armour was unfamiliar. Glancing about, he paused at the door and pulled out the note.

_Meet me in the Undercroft at midnight._

_Yours, Fae._

_Yours_. The word made him smile, and he shoved the paper back into his pocket. Why she said to come here, of all places, in the middle of the night stumped him. Usually she was straightforward to the point of blunt, but this was oddly mysterious. The way it was snuck under his door too added to the confusion. Shrugging to himself, he slipped through the door and down the steps.

The roar of the waterfall reached his ears before he set foot in the room. It was pitch black, the opening at the far end bathed in pale moonlight. Icicles glowed faintly around the cave mouth. A slim silhouette stood at the railing, her back to him. Pausing he watched for a moment, her head tilted to one side as if listening.

“Fae.”

At the sound of his voice she spun, elven eyes glinting like jewels in the darkness. No doubt she could see him clearly, smiling at him fumbling in the gloom. He was just trying not to fall down the steps.

“Ma vhenan.”

Cullen managed it down the stairs, and made his way towards her. Except she had disappeared. Stopping in the middle of the room, he squinted into the shadows.

“Fae?”

Giggles sounded to his left, and he felt a hand brush his arm. Looking for her, he could see nothing despite the effort. Another caress to the opposing arm, and bowed his head, chuckling. Two hands suddenly squeezed his backside, making him jump forwards.

“What!? Fae...what are you doing?”

Another giggle and tickle of his ear. It was frustrating, yet...rousing...at the same time. He waited for the next tease, tensing to pounce. A waft of air to his right and he snapped his arm out, his hand gripping around thin air. Laughter tinkled from behind him, and he found himself grinning. Outmatched, he awaited her next move, heart hammering in his chest.

Cool palms slid under his shirt to glide up his chest. Her fingers feathered over muscles and scars as he stood silently, ragged breaths lost to the din of the water. Slipping her hands free, she reached up to cup his face, coaxing him down to meet his lips with hers. A sweet tongue swept in to tangle with his own, her mouth caressing softly. Fingers traced around his ears as he reached out to pull her closer.

Breaking from the kiss, she danced backwards out of his grasp as he wobbled forwards, left swiping at nothing once again. Swallowing hard, he shook his head as he tried to listen for her over the noise. The sound of fabric crumpling to the floor made him freeze. Watching, his breath hitching in his throat, she slowly stepped into the light, vallaslin glistening along the length of her body.

Fae raised an arm, curling a finger with a smirk to beckon him forward. Starting towards her, he bit his lip in a smirk. _Mysterious...mysterious was good._

 


	9. Thank-the-Maker (for you) Kiss - Cullen x Cassandra (brOTP)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/Cassandra - Thank-the-Maker (for you) kiss.
> 
> Along the lines of Aveline's kiss to Hawke.

_Where is he?_ Cassandra leant back against the stonework, arms crossed. She’d been waiting for what felt like an age, the sun slowly sinking below the walls of the keep. Sighing, she scuffed the ground with her boot. Aiding the Commander in matters of…love…was ridiculous, but for some reason, she had agreed.

Grunting, she pushed away from her perch and strode to peer over the wall to the courtyard below. He had said he would meet her here, outside his tower, after…

_“I…I…have no one else to ask, really. No one I can…trust. With this.” He rubbed his neck, shifting his gaze to the floor as his face reddened._

_“Commander, just spit it out.”_

_Cullen cleared his throat and clenched his fists to his sides. She waited, unimpressed._

_“I need advice…with a…with a gift. For the Inquisitor.”_

_Rubbing her forehead, she frowned._

_“You need me to help…with a gift.”_

_The desperation in his face softened her annoyance. Groaning, she dropped her hands in defeat and nodded._

The clink of metal drew her attention to the stairs. She barely had time to greet him before hands gripped her shoulders and lips pressed a firm kiss against her cheek. Cullen held her for a second, his expression one of pure happiness before it fell to one of horror.

“Maker…I-I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

Quickly releasing her he stepped back, ducking his head in embarrassment, blushing fiercely. Cassandra couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I take it she liked it?”

Cullen’s excitement bubbled back, and Cassandra couldn’t remember a time when he had smiled so openly.

“Yes, she did, thank you. We…we are having dinner tonight.” He continued to beam at her, blush deepening as he coughed nervously. “Thank you for your help.”

“It was my pleasure, Commander.”

Nodding a farewell, she left him to regain his composure in peace and headed off. Striding across the battlements, she couldn’t stop the smile that curled the corner of her mouth. _Fools._


	10. First Date - Cullen x F!Trevelyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This a prompt for a first date - I've linked it to the previous prompt (in the previous chapter) involving Cass/Cullen :)

The rest of the day was lost. Cullen couldn't help but relive the moment in his mind, over and over, grinning like an idiot. Reports remained untouched, letters unwritten. The look of her face plastered with a beaming smile was burned into his vision. Sitting back in his chair, he glanced out the window, noting the time.

“ _You...got this for me?”_

_Cullen nodded, eyes locked on hers as he rubbed his neck. The room was very warm. Or was it him?_

“ _It's nothing really.”_

_Aarien scoffed, carefully turning the blue crystal in her hands. When Cassandra had suggested to get her something practical yet personal, Cullen had stared at her blankly. After many days of milling it over, the gift he decided on even surprised him._

“ _It's absolutely beautiful. You say it's for my staff?”_

“ _Yes, the dealer in Denerim said it should focus your power much more efficiently.” That his present was an item to make a mage more powerful...well, the irony wasn't lost on him. The look on her face made any trepidation disappear, however. Aarien held it up to the light, expression in awe as sapphire rays danced over her face. The colour was a near match for her eyes, he noticed. Eyes that were now staring back._

“ _Thank you so much for this Cullen. No one...no one has given me a gift before. I love it.” Stepping forward, she brushed a quick kiss across his cheek. Her sudden closeness caused his breath to hitch in his chest._

“ _Would you like to join me for dinner?”_

_Awkwardly he just nodded, heart hammering so hard he was sure the sound was echoing around the hall._

“ _I'll see you tonight then.” Grinning broadly, Aarien quickly pecked him again, then wandered off cradling the gem to her chest. Cullen stood stock still, watching her go. Dinner. They were having dinner. Turning on his heel, he hurried from the hall, remembering his appointment with Cassandra. She loved it! Pulse still racing, he headed towards his tower._

Taking deep breaths, Cullen paced across the well worn route in his chamber. Absent mindedly he tugged at the buckles of his armour, slipping it from his body. It was dinner, he shouldn't go dressed for battle. Or would she expect him to wear it? Pausing, he fought with his indecision before finally releasing the last strap. Placing it on the desk, he then unclipped his bracers. The missing weight felt odd. Rolling his shoulders to loosen a little, he wrapped his cloak about him and set off.

The night was crisp and frosty. Quickly he crossed the rampart to the main keep, shrugging off the cold as he pushed through the door. Nodding to Solas, he made his way to the main hall, pulse quickening with each step. He slowed as he approached her door. Anyone looking at him curiously was forgotten as he stood before the woodwork. _It's just dinner, calm down man._ Sucking in deeply, he rapped a knuckle against the door.

Cullen thought he heard a muffled shout, then a loud thunk. Silence followed, before a few thuds sounded, much closer this time. The handle clanked as the door creaked open, revealing his Inquisitor. Aarien stood before him, hair tousled and bare foot. _Was that...soot on her face?_ Panting, she hopped on one leg, wincing as she rubbed an ankle.

“Cullen! Dinner, yes of course. Sorry I got carried away. Please come in.” Backing away from the door, she tentatively placed the foot on the floor.

“Is everything all right? Are you hurt?” Taking the chance to properly look her over while her attention was elsewhere, she looked fine. _More than fine_. Coughing nervously, he raised a brow in question as she laughed.

“No, no, not hurt. Well, I did fall down the stairs, but I'm okay. Really.” Starting off up the steps, she limped a little but seemed to shake it off. Cullen placed his hand on the railing, and waited. Aarien paused, frowning at his hesitation.

“If your busy, I can...”

“No, shush. I was just distracted is all.” Winking at him, she beckoned for him to follow. “We're having dinner.”

Chuckling, Cullen followed up the stairs. A strange smell assaulted his sense as they rose, it smelt like -

“Shitshitshit!”

Aarien took the steps two at a time, racing upwards as black smoke started to billow down the stairwell. Hurrying after her, Cullen spluttered as he took in the scene before him. Pillows were piled in the centre of the room, happily burning away. The acrid odour of singed feathers made his eyes water. Grabbing her staff, Aarien directed the point at the bonfire, magic tendrils snaking down the shaft to burst forth as frost. The effort did douse the fire, but coated the entire room in a blanket of snow in the process.

Coughing, Cullen hurried over to the balcony doors, throwing them open to the night air. Gradually the black cloud billowed out. _Maybe I should have worn my armour._ Gratefully taking a lung full of clean air, he turned back to survey the damage. A black circle was singed into the floor, the remnants of Aarien's bedding drifting out the window in a cloud of ashes. The rest of the room was grey – a layer of ice over a layer of soot. Shaking his head in disbelief, he found Aarien slumped on the bed, bent dejectedly over the staff on her lap. A number of reprimands coursed forth to die on his lips. 'What were you thinking?' and 'You're a mage, you need to be more careful' were not suitable, not for her. It didn't feel right. Eyes widened at his realisation. _I've changed._

Crossing the room, he dusted a clean-ish spot next to her on the bed. As he sat down, Cullen noticed the blue crystal he had gifted her, set proudly at the crown of the staff. Aarien darted a glance at his face before fixing her eyes to the floor.

“I wanted to try it out...it was so beautiful and...I may have gotten carried away.” She snorted, running a hand over the stick. Lifting her head to take in the rest of the room, she sighed deeply. “I'm sorry, I know you don't like magic, especially when things like this happen.”

Carefully, he slid the staff from her lap and laid it on the floor. Aarien watched him cautiously, not understanding his calm reaction.

“I think you need to practice...just maybe not on your pillows.” Stretching an arm out, he slid it to cradle around her shoulders. Gently he tugged her closer, wrapping her in a warm embrace. He could feel her shivering from the cold. Chuckling Aarien relaxed into him, closing her eyes as her arms snaked around his waist. They held each other in a content silence, before Cullen's gaze found the table in the corner.

“Is that...our dinner?”

Dishes of...unknown contents, disguised by their new garnish, were spread over the surface. Aarien snuggled closer, smirking.

“I'm sorry, it didn't really work out did it?”

Cullen laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting home. Propping her chin on his chest, she grinned up at him.

“And to think, I was nervous about having dinner with you, when I should have been nervous about you burning down the keep.”

A chuckle rumbled out, Aarien joining him. It carried into hysterics, their laughter pealing out as they clutched each other, gasping for breath. Calming down she straightened, breaking his hold as she wiped away tears. Looking at him, they grinned at each other, revelling in the shared moment.

“At least it's memorable I suppose.” Standing, Aarien held out a hand, brushing snow off her behind with the other. “Tavern for dinner then? Also I need to explain...this. Then beg forgiveness from the servants.”

Cullen grasped her hand, twining his fingers with hers as he rose. Smiling slyly, he gestured for her to lead on.

“I wouldn't want to miss that for the world.”

 


	11. Tipsy Kiss - Dorian x Sera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tipsy Kiss - Dorian & Sera

'Oi, you, Fancy-Pants'

Dorian glanced up from his book, noted the way she wobbled into view, then resumed reading. Interruptions at this point would not – no _could_ not- be tolerated. He needed to find out what happened to the Knight-Captain. However ridiculous it probably was. Drunken elves were not a welcome distraction.

“There naughty pictures in that book or something? Or your nose too far up your own arse instead?”  
Sighing, he snapped the book shut and flung it onto the table next to him. Maybe indulging whatever need she had to harass him would make her leave quickly. Glaring, he folded his hands into his lap, waiting.

Nodding approval at receiving full attention, Sera flopped to floor in front of him. Taking a good five minutes in attempt to cross her legs, she gave up, stretching out instead. Tilting her head to one side, she stared into the distance.

“So, I was thinking -”

“A painful experience, I’m sure.” Shooting a sidelong glower at his direction, she leant back on elbows as she resumed.

“You gave up pissing gold, living it high, like.” She turned her head, blue eyes trying to focus on him through a boozy haze. The familiar smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You going back to that, after Corriffy…Corfiffy…balls. Yes! Corfiffy-balls.” Head thrown back she guffawed, the momentum causing her elbow to slip on the rug. With a thud she fell back, giggling on the way down. Dorian couldn’t help but smile, stroking his chin as he shook his head.

“After all this? Why the concern about my plans?” He leant forward in the chair, brow raised in question. Despite the alcohol addling her brain, this behaviour was unusual, even for her.

Huffing, she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

“You should, you know, not. Better without, yeah? Less…arse, more person.” Waving her hands to exaggerate the point, she paused and grasped her head with a groan. Chuckling, Dorian stood, poking her with his toe before offering a hand.

“I’m grateful for the pep talk, really I am. I care about you too.” Scrabbling to grip his hand, Sera snorted as he pulled her up, and stumbled as she tried to stand straight. Pulling her hand to his lips, he pecked a kiss as she screwed up her face. “I think it’s time to take you to bed.”

“Eugh, hairy nastiness that.” She snatched her hand away, rubbing it as she looked on in disgust. Slinging an arm around his shoulder, she squeezed as he half-carried her out the library. “And _you_ , taking _me_ to bed.” Her cackles echoed around the tower, as he wondered what he’d done in life to deserve this.


	12. Desperate/Goodbye/I'll-never-let-go hug - Cullen x F!Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15/16/17 – Desperate/Goodbye/I'll never let go hug -Cullen & Ellana Lavellan

The camp bustled with activity through the night, yet it was strangely quiet. Everyone was lost in thought, mouths set in grim lines as they prepared. The Temple of Mythal was a days march away, where Corypheus and his red lyrium Templars would be waiting. Cullen oversaw the final troop movements, smiling reassuringly at his Lieutenants as he gave them their orders for the battle. Inside his stomach roiled, his inner turmoil mocking the calm exterior.

After a quick stop to Leliana's tent, he paced around the camp. Where ever he looked, he couldn't find her. Even her companions looked at him blankly. _Where are you Ellana?_ Despite the imminent confrontation, he didn't believe she would leave them now. Not after everything they'd been through. The mere fact he thought it sickened him. Pausing at the edge of camp, he puffed out a deep sigh, eyes searching through the trees. _Was that?..._ A brief glimpse of a lithe body striding off into the woods caused him to start off after her.

Cursing under his breath, he clawed his way past branches in the darkness, stumbling over roots in an effort to keep up. Finally the bracken opened into a clearing, bright moonlight shining down to glimmer on the surface of a small pond. Ellana stood at the edge, back silhouetted to him. No doubt she had heard him fumbling about behind her, but he was hesitant to interrupt. Maybe she wanted a moment alone, to escape the sea of eyes looking at her in undisguised desperation.

He hovered at the edge of the copse, fighting the decision to turn back. Ellana made the decision for him.

“Cullen, don't leave.” The words were spoken softly, almost pleading. Doubt stripped away, he strode to stand next to her. They stood in companionable silence, watching the light dance across the waters surface. He wasn't going to press her – he couldn't imagine the pressure, the expectation she must be under. Whatever she needed, he would give it. Especially on what could be their last night together. _No._ _Not their last night_. Despite his determination to believe, the words sounded hollow.

“Do you...do you think we'll win?” Ellana's chin tilted towards him, eyes wide with hope. Reaching out he cupped her face, running a thumb gently across her cheek.

“Yes, I do.” Whatever happened, he truly believed it. In _her_. He was rewarded with a loving smile, and she slipped her arms about his waist, gripping tightly. Wrapping his arms around in reply, he buried his face in her hair, breathing in deeply. The scent was soothing, and settled the knot building in his stomach. _She would survive, but him..._ Closing his eyes, he pulled her closer. If this was the last time, he was going to hold on, and not let go until morning.

 


	13. Last Kiss - Cullen x F!Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/F!Inquisitor

Cullen sighed, eyes drifting over the smooth, porcelain skin of her face. Over rosy lips that enticed a kiss, over delicate eyelashes that hid come-hither eyes. She was just asleep, his heart whispered. Lost in peaceful slumber, about to wake up and grin sleepily, asking him to stop staring. A sob shook his chest as he brushed a knuckle over her cheek. _But she won't._

He lifted her hand to grasp it in his own, kneeling beside the casket. She was cold to the touch, but the long-familiar scars and callouses were there as he squeezed. Hot tears rolled down his face as he pressed his lips to her fingers, eyes squinting shut in a final prayer. An internal scream that begged for her fingers to tighten around his; to hear the soft sigh of a lazy breath.

“Commander...they're ready.”

Nodding over his shoulder, Cullen stood weakly. Resting her hand carefully back on the other, he straightened her dress. Everything had to be perfect. Gaze returning to her face, he curled his finger through a golden lock, as he bent down to brush his lips across hers for one last time.

“Goodbye, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why WHY DID I WRITE THIS! *cries*


	14. Heart-breaking Kiss - Cullen x F!Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart-breaking Kiss - Cullen x Inquisitor

She chewed a finger nervously, loitering outside the war room. Cullen was inside, discussing with Leliana about troops or some such, she didn’t really care what. Waiting was torture. Since their discussion in the blacksmith, about the lyrium…she couldn’t let it go. _We all must do what’s best for the Inquisition._ She still stood by her advice that he should take it – watching him suffer through the pain, it was too much. They would find another way, after the war.

The creak of the door made her jump. Taking a deep breath, she nodded to Leliana as she strode past. The spy master didn’t stop, didn’t say anything. The side-long glance she gave was cold, unforgiving. It was instantly forgotten though, as Cullen appeared in the doorway behind her.

“Cullen, could I have a moment?”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” The use of the title constricted her heart. Shutting the door behind him, he stood before her, body stiff and expression stern.

“About our discussion yesterday, I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright?” Her hands were clasped behind her back, the grip painfully tight. She searched his face for any emotion, any flicker to reveal what he might be thinking.

“I am fine, thank you. Much better since going back on lyrium.”

“Good, good, I’m glad. Um, would you like to have dinner together, tonight?” Her breath caught, eyes wide in hope, yet it plummeted as his expression changed. Brows knitted together in a frown, leather straps creaking as arms were crossed.

“I…don’t think that’s a good idea. Now if you’ll excuse me, good day Inquisitor.” Cullen inclined his head in farewell, and stepped away, starting off down the hallway.

“Wait” Evelyn grasped his arm, desperate, as she stepped forward to press her lips to his. His mouth stayed set, a grim line unyielding to her soft caress. A stark contrast to the urgent, passionate kisses mere days ago. Gently he grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, eyes filled with sadness. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Good day, Inquisitor.”

Then he was gone. Cullen left her there, slumped against the wall, a hand clutching at the void opening in her chest. Tears welled up to spill in hot tracks down her cheeks, sobs echoing through the hall. _What have I done?_


	15. Tipsy Kiss - Cassandra x Cullen (brOTP)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tipsy Kiss - Cassandra x Cullen (platonic/bff)

Aarien slowly leant towards the dwarf, never taking her eyes off of the pair. She spoke in a whisper, not daring to interrupt what was happening.

“Varric, is this..am I seeing this?”

“Shhh, this is a once in a lifetime event. I can’t miss anything. Any detail. Just admire.” Aarien nodded sagely, wobbling slightly as she reached for her tankard. They were holed up in a corner of the inn, a rare night away from responsibility. Opposite them at their table, completely and utterly drunk, were Cassandra and Cullen. Somehow, _somehow_ , they had convinced them to have a drink. Then another. Then maybe a few more. And now, perfection was playing out it front of them.

“Ssssh no Commander, youis the best shhield bear-bear-bearerer I’ve seen.”

“Milady, I have’t disagree.” Cullen waved his cup high to exaggerate the point, slopping ale, apparently with little care, over his head. “ _Youis_ the best with a shhield, milady.” Aarien bit her lip to suppress the laughter bubbling up, as he grinned proudly at himself and everyone else at the table. Cassandra slammed down her own tankard, shaking her head emphatically as she poked him with a wavering finger.

“Ssstop, ssnot true.” She looked appealingly at Varric and Aarien, holding hands out in question as she swayed on her seat. “Theyswill tell you.” Cullen laughed, grabbing Cassandra’s jabbing hand in his own.

“Wassa Varric and a, a, and a -” He frowned at Aarien, mouth open as he strained for a word. She raised an eyebrow as his eyes lit up. “- a mage! Thassit. Wass they know about shheilds?” He planted a hard kiss on her knuckle, grinning as he pulled her arm aloft, as if in triumph. Cassandra grunted in disgust, snatching her hand away to give him a massive shove. Aarien’s cackle burst forth as Cullen fell sideways onto the floor with a thump. Cassandra’s mouth curled into a little smile as mumbled curses floated up from under the table.

“Maybe it is true.”

Aarien buried her head into Varric’s shoulder, gasped for air between guffaws as Cassandra picked up her tankard, smug smile plastered across her face. Cullen’s red, flustered face popped up over the edge, sending Aarien off in another round of hysterics. Varric chuckled as he attempted to clamber back up into his chair. Eventually managing it, he fixed them with a glare, running a hand through ruffled curls in an attempt to tame them. Scowling at Cassandra, he picked up his toppled cup, settling back in his seat with a huff.

“I take it back.”

A boot thudded against his chair, and his face briefly flickered with shock, as he was thrown onto the floor once again.


	16. Roaming Hands Hug - Dorian x Iron Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roaming hands hug - Dorian x Iron Bull

Bull hefted his greataxe, swinging it down in a big arc to cleave cleanly through the skull of an oncoming corpse. Grinning as it split in two, he levered the hefty weapon out of the ground to round on his next opponent. Shoulder barging two more to the floor, he stamped with a sickening crunch, while sweeping the blade down at the other. Grinning with battle lust, he whirled to seek his next quarry.

Striding towards a fresh wave of shambling bodies, a throaty laugh rumbled forth as he charged, limbs flying haphazardly as he set to work. Amidst the mayhem, he noted a black cloud billow around him, latching onto enemies to pull them down into the fog, or to strangle them where they stood. Bull side-stepped and swung around the smoky tendrils, a macabre dance between man and magic. There was something comforting about Dorian’s necromancy – non of this flashy, elemental shit that most seemed to wield. It was death, pure and simple. Grabbing the nearest enemy, he flung them into the conjured mist, chuckling as they exploded on contact.

“My magic isn’t a plaything, you know.”  Dorian appeared through the gloom, the sinister cloud vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Bull cast a quick look over him – the mage was slightly dishevelled, but otherwise unharmed.

“Pull the other one, Vint. You should see your face when you’re ripping lyrium templars in two.” Bull smirked as he leant on his axe. “Absolutely loving it.” Dorian bristled, brushing his robe in a futile attempt to rid it of the mud.

“Yes, well, when one is in awful places such as this,” he gestured to the swamp around him, moustache twitching as he scowled, “Killing efficiently is preferred. The sooner we leave the better. Where’s the Inquisitor?” Bull glanced about. Despite the absence of Dorian’s death fog, it was still difficult to see through the dark gloom that was the Fallow Mire. The faint clash of battle sounded to his right, followed by a brief flare of green light, then silence.

“Boss, you okay?” They waited for a moment, before a weary voice floated through the mist.

“Yes, all clear.” Grunting with approval, Bull tilted his head at Dorian, flashing him with a cheeky grin. Dorian glared back, rubbing his arms as he shivered.

“I really do hate his place.”

“Aaw, here Vint, I’ll help you.” Letting his weapon slide to the ground, he stepped in and wrapped his arms around Dorian before he could protest. Yelping, he squirmed a little before settling into the embrace.

“You’re covering me in corpse goo.”

“Shush” He held him in silence for a few minutes, hoping some of his warmth was spreading to comfort the other man. It was definitely satisfying him…

“Is that…are those your hands on my ass?!” Dorian’s eyes widened as he looked up into his face. Bull chuckled as he let go, giving him a wink before bending to pick up his axe.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Swaggering off in the direction of the shout, he heard Dorian laughing behind him.


	17. Tipsy Kiss - F!Inquisitor x Dorian (brOTP)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tipsy Kiss - F!Inquisitor x Dorian
> 
> (I used my Lavellan, aaand Cullen kinda hijacked ^^)

Cullen slowly meandered his way across the hall, brows knitted together, his focus solely on the report in his hand. Not anything particularly urgent, but it concerned Fae's clan, and he felt she would like it as soon as possible. It would not disrupt his day to hand it to her personally, not at all. Just the Commander taking a message to the Inquisitor. He coughed to stop the slight smirk tugging at his lip, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one saw. _Saw what?_ His cheeks warmed as he shook his head, embarrassed at his behaviour. Maybe he should just leave it for her, or give it to a servant. _You're a grown man, stop it_.

Approaching her door, the frown snapped back as he noted it was slightly ajar. The guard normally posted there was missing too. Embarrassment was burnt away by concern, and he quickly pushed through the door to jog up the stairs. The sound of a familiar giggle froze him in tracks, especially when it was followed by rich laughter. Deep laughter. Fae had male company. Silently cursing at himself, he tried to creep back down the staircase. Of course, fate had other plans, and his weight caused the wood to creak deafeningly, echoing around the tower.

“Hello? Who's there?” Gripping the paper tightly, Cullen continued his march up the steps, sucking in a deep breath as he reached the top. Whoever she was with, he had no right to judge, to assume...Gaze fixed to the floor, he rubbed his neck while clearing his throat.

“I brought you a report, Inquisitor, I didn't mean to interrupt, but the door was open and -”

“Come now Commander, t'sno need to be shy” Cullen's eyes lifted to meet the amused, and slightly glazed expression of Dorian's. He was lounging back on the couch, hand clasped around an empty goblet. Fae sat next to him, crossed legged, and giggling incessantly. His gaze took in the empty bottle of brandy on the table, and the bright red cheeks and chin of the inebriated elf. A voice at the back of his mind noted how the flush extended adorably to the tips of her ears, and he could feel himself reddening, realising he had been staring.

“Excuse me, I'll leave you be and return later.”

“Nonono you sshtay where you are.” Dorian thumped the glass down on the table, and wobbled to a stand. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed Fae and practically yanked her off the couch. It took all Cullen had not to rush over and catch her as she slid off onto her arse, rolling off curses in Elvish as she hit the floor with a thud. Dorian just watched, tutting with a shake of the head. After scrabbling for a purchase on the table, she was eventually standing next to him, back to giggling about Maker knows what.

“Whens you twos going to shtop being idiots, hmmm?” He pointed a wavering finger at Cullen, eyebrows raised in question as he slung the other arm around Fae. _Why was he still here?_ Something about seeing the Inquisitor in this state was strangely fascinating. Her eyes fixed onto his as she swayed slightly with Dorian, green eyes twinkling with mirth. Cullen felt himself swallow hard. Dorian groaned. “Pleaaase, just get on with it.”

“What?” The report in his hand was forgotten.

“Just _kiss_ her already.” Fae blinked, eyes going wide and mouth gaping, Cullen watching as she went impossibly redder. Much like himself. Dorian chuckled, glancing between the two. He gurgled as she elbowed him in the stomach. “Ow, thassnot nice.”

“Then shhhutit.” Fae crossed her arms, glaring at the man smirking next to her. _Time to go._ Cullen stepped forward, dropping the report on her desk.

“Good day.”

“Nooo, see, it's quite simple really.” Dorian hands grasped Fae's head gently, puckering up between chuckles. Fae's expression as his lips descended towards her was priceless. Yelling, she shoved him back, causing him to topple over back onto the sofa. Both of them paused for a moment, before descending into hysterics, Fae bent over as she gasped for breath. Cullen chuckled himself, shaking his head. No day was uneventful it seemed. Turning to go, his eye caught Fae's as she winked at him. Smiling in reply, his eyes drifted down to her lips, unbidden thoughts of pressing them to his own flooding forward. Watching them spread to a grin, he mumbled a quick goodbye and hurried down the tower. Shouts of 'I wasn't actually going to kiss you' and 'Ouch, stop that!' floated down behind him.


	18. Last Kiss - Alistair x Cousland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Kiss - Alistair x Cousland

The Archdemon shuddered with a final breath, eyes fluttering shut as the massive form sank to lay still. Wails of Darkspawn rendered the air as Alistair ran forward, eyes fixed on the body that toppled from the beast's head to the ground. _Get up...get up dammit!_ She wasn't moving, form crumpled as he sprinted onwards. He found himself shouting for Wynne, sword and shield clattering to the floor, battle forgotten. Sliding to his knees next to her, he carefully rolled her onto her back, cradling her head. _No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen._ Blood seeped from a deep gash across her stomach, the stain spreading as he held her.

“WYNNE.” He screamed as much as his dry, hoarse throat would allow. She...she... _no_. Her head lolled back, eyes wide, staring lifeless up at him. No smirk, no wink, no...just... “Wynne.” He whispered, pulling his love onto his lap. He brushed the hair from her face, cursing as he left bloody trails with his fingers. Sobs shook him as he realised it was her blood, her life, coating his hands and armour. Tears fell as he bent to kiss her lips, kissing hard as if to rouse her from slumber, that all she needed was him, just him. He would save her. Soft lips were cold against his, no reply to his caress. Hugging her to him, he wept. _Why?_ He had done the ritual, she was supposed to be alive. They were supposed to be alive, and happy, and together.

Footsteps made him look up, their companions circling around, faces grim. He smiled through the tears as he saw Wynne, nodding and hopeful as he shuffled towards her. His stomach dropped as she shook her head, hand clasped to her face as her eyes welled. Leliana turned away into Zevran's embrace, her body shaking.

“No. No. Nonono. This wasn't supposed to happen.” He spied Morrigan lingering in the distance, gaze resigned. _She can..she must..._ Scooping up the body, he staggered to a stand. Pushing his way past the others, he held out his dead love, anger sweeping in to fuel his grief.

“You were supposed to **save** her. I...I did what y-you asked. Please...I'll do anything” Alistair sank to his knees before the woman, hugging the Warden close as his eyes pleaded. She shook her head, her face filled with sadness.

“Alistair, I stopped the soul from killing her, and you. I have no control over anything else. She has died from a mortal wound.”

“Please...” Morrigan turned and walked away, his whispered pleas fading as she disappeared into the keep. _What...what was happening?_ Gently, he stroked gloved fingers to her face, tugging her eyes closed. Lip trembling, he planted a firm kiss to her forehead before lowering her to the ground. She looked peaceful, content, and he crossed her hands on her chest, fingers trailing along hers as he sat back. Looking around him in a daze, he felt hot tears fall freely down his cheeks. _How..._ He glanced down, rubbing at his Grey Warden plate, trying to clean it of the blood and gore. _Her blood._ He just seemed smear it further. Chuckling deliriously, he pulled at the straps, fingers slipping along the leather and metal. Cursing, he shouted as he ripped it from his body and flung it away. Taking a deep breath, the relief he sought from the tightness in his chest was nowhere to be found. His gaze returned to her lifeless form, red hair splayed out in the stone. _No_. Curling over her, his senses were assaulted by the acrid coppery tang, but he didn't care. _It was her._ She was still here. He could still feel her. _But..._ His body shuddered as grief swallowed him whole. _She's dead._

 


	19. Roaming Hands Hug - Sebastian x F!Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roaming Hands hug - Sebastian x F!Hawke

Hawke jogged up the steps towards the chantry, the dull ache in her legs letting itself be known after a week of trekking around the Wounded Coast. It felt good to be clean, and not have the grainy friction of sand in…uncomfortable places. The breeze fluttered her linen shirt, soft fabric caressing her skin. She was mad to venture out without armour, but the idea of nothing chafing won through. Besides, visiting Seb wasn’t likely to be a risk. _How many times had she rued those words?_

Nodding to the guards, she pushed open the large door, eyes blinking to adjust to the darkness. Why they insisted on it being so dingy in here, she’d never understand. Devotion to the Maker or no, surely he’d want you to see what you’re doing. As her vision became clearer, she peered up at the dais. Elthina was there, as per usual, but Seb was missing from her side. Sighing, she sauntered further in, nodding to the sisters that watched her pass with narrowed eyes. _Ugh._ Taking a deep breath, she ignored them. She was here for one person only.

Taking the stairs up to the gallery, a grin spread as she spied him sitting to the side, reading. Every time she questioned why she’d fallen for the pious, tortured man, his presence burned away the doubt. Silken brown hair had slipped forward, left unkempt in his concentration. Steely blue eyes scanned quickly over the pages, engrossed. Despite the urge to sneak up on him and make him scream like an actual choir boy, she resisted and walked over. Seb’s head snapped up as her shadow fell over him, a frown instantly smoothed by delight.

“Hawke! You’re back. And I’m glad to say, in one piece.” The shine in his eyes made her chest tighten.

“You know me, fond of my limbs and such.” She smirked, breath catching as he stood. _Maker, he was close_. He studied her face for a second, before glancing about. Grabbing her hand, he tugged her to a nearby door, quickly opening it and pulling her inside. Looking about the room, she saw crates, a few bags…was she in a cupboard? Why was she in a cupboard? Before she could open her mouth to question, arms wrapped around her, hugging tightly.

“I prayed for your safe return Hawke. I’m glad the Maker saw you home to me.” A small voice at the back of her head mentioned it was a couple of pointy daggers, not the Maker, that saw to that. The fact, however, that he was touching her, _hugging_ even, swept all other thoughts away. Tentatively, she lifted her arms to slide them around his waist. Briefly he stiffened, before relaxing into her embrace. Burying her face in his shoulder, she inhaled deeply. Never had they been this close. He smelt wonderful, of clean linen and incense, and she tightened her hold. Hands stroked her back, and she became increasingly aware of the body pressed against hers. Of the heart increasing in pace, keeping time with her own. _Maybe, just maybe…_

Biting her lip with a smile, she slowly slid her hands down, following the curve of his back, fingers catching on his belt as she moved them lower. She reached rounded, firm cheek as he yelped and shot backwards, getting as much distance between them as possible while she bent over laughing. Coughing, he straightened his tunic, cheeks flushing red as he glared at her.

“Hawke…” Giggling, she shrugged, giving him a wink.

“You’re the one that pulled me into a cupboard.” Opening his mouth to protest, he shut it with a shake of the head and a chuckle. Stepping over to the door, he opened it, still trying to keep space between them.

“The Maker sent you to test me.” It was said with a twinkle in his eye, and a smile tugging at his mouth. Laughing, she raised an eyebrow.

“You better believe it, Choir Boy.”


	20. Desperate Kiss - Cullen x F!Trevelyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate Kiss - Cullen x Trevelyan

_Where is he?_ Aarien scanned the battlements as they rode into the keep, view obscured briefly as they passed through the gate. She heard a chuckle from Bull as she twisted in the saddle to keep searching, but she was past the point of caring. Huffing in disappointment, she steered the horse towards the stables. Blackwall was there, waiting, with a knowing smile as she swung off the saddle.

“I'll look after your horse. I imagine you'll be wanting to...” His mouth twitched with a suppressed chuckle. “...catch up with your advisers.” Normally, she would protest, but not today. _Two months._ Grinning, she handed him the reins and gave a squeeze on his arm in thanks. _Two whole months since she'd left._ Striding out and across the grounds, Aarien stripped the riding gloves from her hands, and stuffed them in a pocket. Curt nods and a brisk pace kept calls of 'Greetings Herald' and 'Welcome home Inquisitor' from turning into lengthy interruptions. Narrowed eyes still scoured for a certain face.

“Inquisitor.” Leliana met her at the entrance to the hall, smile warm and relieved. “I'm glad to see back and unharmed.” Aarien chuckled, sweeping a hand through travel tousled hair. 

“I never want to go back to the Hissing Wastes again. The name alone should have been warning enough.” The spy master laughed, crossing arms across her chest.

“Can't wait to hear about it. War room in ten? I'll fetch Josie, she's with the quartermaster.”

“Yes, of course.” Stepping to let Leliana pass, Aarien sighed deeply. The...plans...brewed in her head on the journey home would have to wait. Waving to Varric, she shrugged out of her dusty coat, slinging it over an arm. Weariness crept into her legs, the excitement of being home fading away. Now she felt bone tired, and dirty. _So much sand_. Flinging the coat on Josephine's desk, she made her way to the war room, aching thighs screaming with each step. 

Leaning against the door, she let it bear her weight as it swung open, stumbling inside. Breath catching, Aarien froze. Cullen mirrored her, arm halting half way to placing a marker on the map. Their eyes met, and she felt all the aches, the tiredness, melt away. In a second there was the clatter of forgotten troops, and then strong, familiar arms were encircling her. Her face burrowed into the musty,  _intoxicating_ smell of man and leather that lingered in his collar. Hands deftly lifted her chin, lips pressing down with searing kisses that she responded to fiercely.  _Two_ _months_ . Two months of trying to remember his taste, his touch, the sound he makes when she grips him by the nape. Kisses spread to her nose, her cheeks and forehead, before hungrily finding her mouth again, hot tongue sweeping in as they pressed closer. Fingers toyed with the edge of her tunic, slipping underneath to tickle calloused pads across her back.  _Maker._ Breaking with a gasp, she placed a hand over his mouth to pause the onslaught.

“I missed you.” A grin as he pulled tighter, hands sliding down to reacquaint with her body. Aarien threw her arms around his neck in response. Amber eyes ran over her face, scrutinising every line, every feature, smile widening throughout his examination.

“Not as much as I missed you.” 


	21. First Kiss - Hawke x Amell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Kiss - ? x ? (Ooo, mystery :P)

He scratched at the fabric that hugged tightly around his neck, shifting uncomfortably. The Viscount had been droning on for what felt like hours, and he had a job to do. Another scratch followed at his arm. How did Circle mages wear these infernal robes? The garment must be made from wire wool. One of said mages, standing next to him, glanced disapprovingly as he muttered under his breath. _Just for tonight._ All he needed were the documents, and then he could walk the streets of Kirkwall naked if he so wished. Well, probably not, but the thought was calming. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to cope for the time being, and set about examining the guests for amusement.

It was the same as any other noble gathering, an attempt for each family to try and out do the other. Dresses and suits were tailored to extravagance, disgustingly so. Maybe he should steal their clothes instead, then he would be set for life, no need for contract work. A smirk tugged his lip as he thought of holding the room to ransom for their pantaloons. The scandal! An elbow in his side stopped a brewing chuckle. Shrugging an apology, his attention was brought back to the Viscount, who was finally rounding up his speech.

“And as a thank you for your attendance, I have the Junior Enchanters here to entertain us. Enjoy the rest of the evening!”. There was a small smattering of applause as he left the dais. _Show time_. As a fellow ‘Junior Enchanter’, he followed the small group as they positioned themselves in a circle before their audience. The display was a few simple spells, trivial really – snow falling softly throughout the room; a bolt of electricity bouncing between them to gasps of amazement; a conjured illusion of the Viscount to amused titters. _Wait…just a moment longer…._ He stole a quick look to their Templar chaperones, making sure they were distracted by the display, much like the crowd. _Nearly…nearly…now!_ The flame section had begun, roaring tendrils twirling around their bodies. _A slight flick of the wrist and…_ Screeches pealed out as the drapes set on fire, angry flames licking their way towards the ceiling. It took all he had not to start laughing at the horrified faces of the flailing nobles, stumbling over each other in their panic. Guards, Templars, and mages ran forward, each expecting the other to stop the building from burning down. _Time to go._ Slowly he edged backwards, passing a vase to the guard who was floundering in front of his escape route.

“Find some water man!”

“Yes! Right away!” The guard grabbed the pot and hurried off towards the kitchens. Arguments were breaking out between the group as he slipped away, along the lines of 'mages are dangerous’ but 'use magic to put it out!’. Chuckling to himself, he followed the memorised path to the Viscount’s office. Picking the lock with ease, he cracked the door to peak inside, before sauntering in. A quick rifle through the desk produced his quarry – shipping contracts and charters relating to his client’s competition. Hardly worth the effort, but what did he care, he was getting paid. Tucking the papers into his robe, he set about readjusting the desk to look untouched.

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t shout for the guards.” The soft voice made him freeze, and he slowly raised his head towards the sound. A noblewoman stood leant against the door frame, arms crossed. The office was dark, so he couldn’t distinguish any finer detail. His mind raced for a solution. _Sleeping spell? Lock her in a cupboard? Roguish charm?_ Stupidly, he went for the last one.

“A handsome man such as myself looks better with a head attached, no?” He began to sidle around the desk, eyes staying fixed on the figure in the doorway. She snorted, much to his surprise.

“You have courage, I’ll give you that.”

“Believe me, Serah, I have many outstanding qualities that require preservation.”

“I’ve no doubt.” She hadn’t moved throughout his attempt at sneaking towards the window. _Maybe she was scared._ “If you move any further, I’ll shout.” Sighing, he stopped, throwing arms up in exasperation.

“Either just do it, or let me leave. I don’t have all evening.” She seemed to regard him for a moment, before making her way over. The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the window, and he felt his chest constrict as she stepped into illumination. Dark blonde hair was pinned into intricate curls, and amused green eyes gave him the once over. She wasn’t scared, which confused him. His general opinion of nobles was admittedly, not very flattering, but she was a conundrum. Calm when presented with a strange man creeping about in the dark. _Maker though, she is beautiful. Stop it._ He didn’t swoon. Swooning was bad. An eyebrow arched as she crossed her arms once again.

“What did you steal?”

“Shipping manifests, nothing vital.” _Why was he telling her?_ For some reason he wanted to be honest with this woman. _Dammit man, great time to get a conscience._ She looked thoughtful, before nodding to herself in a silent decision.

“You may go.” The words rattled about his mind before he fully registered them. _What?_

“What?” She giggled, mouth bending into the most mesmerising smile. Thoughts of kissing that mouth caused him to swallow hard.

“Tonight has been most amusing, all because of you. Therefore, as a thank you, I’ll let you leave.” He shook his head in disbelief, answering her smile with one of his own. The idea that she was _letting_ him leave…She had some nerve. Yet he found it endearing. It made him wonder how much trouble _she_ was.

“Thank you, Serah. I’m glad I could be of assistance.” Sweeping into a dramatic bow, he winked at her before heading to the window, tugging it open with a squeak. _Not like this._ Pausing briefly, he then stepped back, holding out his hand. Tentatively, she slipped her palm over his, his fingers tightening to grip. He rose her hand to his lips, brushing across soft, _Maker_ , heavenly soft skin. She trembled at his caress, her smile wavering slightly. Straightening, he gently pulled her closer, still holding her hand as he looked down into a wide, emerald stare.

“Your name, Serah?” She gulped, eyes never leaving his.

“Leandra. Leandra Amell.” Bringing her hand up for another quick peck, he grinned. _Leandra._

“My name is Malcolm Hawke. A pleasure, Leandra.” A brazen thought took hold, and he leant forwards, smiling as she tilted her head to accept him. Delicately he pressed his mouth to hers, cupping a cheek as he tasted the residue of sweet wine on her lips. Reluctantly breaking away, Malcolm lingered close, relishing the feel of her hot breath tingling against his skin.

“Goodbye.” It was whisper, murmured against her cheek as he slipped from her grasp. With that he was gone, vaulting out of the window and stealing away into the night. Leandra stood still, trying to calm the thudding of her heart, wondering if she would ever see him again. She certainly hoped so.


	22. Pamphagous: eating everything - Cullen x F!Trevelyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Pamphagous: eating everything; all-consuming

‘Inquisitor.’

Cullen clenched his lips to contain a laugh as she spun around, eyes wide, cheeks rounded with copious amounts of cake. White specks dusted the corner of her mouth, and, somehow, the tip of her nose. Aarien tried to speak, a small cloud of icing puffing out as she coughed.

“Chew, and swallow.” She glared as he smirked, jaw working as she reduced her mouthful. One big gulp, and she was free to speak.

“Yes?” Cullen shook his head, taking in the half-eaten bun in one hand, and the awaiting cake slice in the other. A few titters drew his glance to a gaggle of nobles spying from behind fans, whispering fervently. The sight of the Inquisitor hunched over the pastries table was working wonders for the evening gossip.

“Leliana was…worried about you.’

“I…well…” She squinted down at the food in her hands, a grimace settling across her face as she hurriedly tossed the buns onto the table. “I’m nervous….and there was cake…and I…” Her gaze darted to the floor, an embarrassed blush blooming across her cheeks. Sticky hands were held out in apology. Chuckling, Cullen slid a napkin from the table, catching himself as he stretched out to wipe her nose. Instead he dropped the cloth into her hands. As much as he wanted to suck the sweetness from her lips, to taste the sugar on her tongue…no more rumours were needed tonight.

“Whatever the Venatori have planned, they will reveal themselves soon. Then this whole evening will be over, and we can return to Skyhold.” Aarien’s head snapped up with a grin, eyes narrowing in scrutiny.

“Not a fan of Orlesian balls then, Commander? The attention too much for you?” The teasing was ruined by the fact she still had sugar plastered over her nose, adorably so. He regarded her placidly, sighing inwardly as she giggled at him, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Not especially, as not all of us can find comfort in cake.” He bit back a snort as her mouth fell open, disbelief widening her stare. Bowing, he turned and walked back into the ballroom, not flinching as a balled up napkin hit the back of his head.


	23. Mariturient: eager to marry - Cullen x Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Mariturient: eager to marry - Cullen x Lavellan

His footsteps wore a path through the grass, his head bowed, lost in thought. Fae watched for a while, silent in her curiosity. She had heard him from the centre of the wood, each step and twig snap an echoing beacon to his presence. Cullen had little care for secrecy – whatever ailed him made him oblivious, oblivious to the multiple eyes watching, the arrows trained on his pacing.

 _Why had he followed?_ Corypheus was dead, and she belonged with what remained of her clan. Whatever was between them…Cullen paused as though her thoughts summoned him, head snapping up, amber eyes creasing with relief.

“Fae! I…I came to find you. You just left without…without…” Eagerness was replaced with uncertainty, the familiar neck rub signalling his discomfort. A glance around the clearing, followed by muttered cursing made Fae smile. “We’re not alone, are we?”

Shaking her head, she sighed, flexing toes against bare earth and soft grass. Pursing her lips, she let loose a shrill whistle, body stiff as she waited for the answer. Heart beats timed the silence before a soft whistle sounded in reply, a faint rustle the signal of privacy. Taking a deep breath, she slowly stalked forward, keeping distance between them.

“Cullen why are you here? To be this deep into the forest, this close to Dalish camps…you could have been killed.” He made to step forward, arms reaching for her, but she slipped away, the hurt marring his features a stab to her heart.

“I wasn’t just going to let you leave. You didn’t even say goodbye, after everything. I love you, Fae.” Cullen caught her hand, bringing it up to brush soft lips against her knuckles. His grip was tight, eyes longing as he tugged her closer. Fae succumbed to his embrace, arms wrapping around his warmth, cherishing his touch, his smell for one final time. Cullen buried his face into her hair, palm soothing her back. “I _love_ you” he whispered again, leaning back to cup her face, planting kisses across her forehead and cheeks. Lips descended to caress, to reignite the fire only he could stoke. _No._ _No, I can’t._ Fae broke away, gently pushing him back. The absence of his body left her cold, shivering. Cullen released her reluctantly, confusion dancing across his features.

“I’m sorry, Cullen.” She backed away, gaze fixed to the floor. Tears began to well as she stepped away.

“Fae, please, don’t.” Cullen fell to his knees, hand scrabbling at a pocket. “Marry me, Fae. That’s why I’m here! _Marry_ me Fae, it doesn’t have to go back to the way it was before. Everything’s different now! _You_ did that.” The tone increased in desperation, as she continued backwards. Tears crept down her cheeks as she stared up at the canopy, not daring to look at him. _It hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed._ He was a shem. It was a miracle her clan had taken her back as it was, she couldn’t sacrifice that again.

“Fae” A loud sob dragged her gaze to the defeated man slumped on the ground, eyes red and pleading. “Don’t leave me again.” His arm stretched forward, palm open to reveal a small, glinting band.

Her head was shaking, feet stumbling as her throat caught. Her restraint crumbled as he stood, arms open and hopeful. _I love him._ Gasping, she paused in her retreat. _I love him_. Everything they had been through, all of it – he had been there, strong, safe, protecting, loving. A shaky step forwards, then another, his face breaking into a warm smile.

A piercing whistle froze them both, Cullen’s face falling as he watched her.

“Fae, no don’t, please, _please_ -” He started forward, hand reaching, begging.

“I’m sorry…don’t…don’t follow me.”

Fae fled into the cool darkness of the forest, running until her legs screamed, until her lungs burned. Slowing to a stagger, she wailed, thumping a fist on the nearest tree until knuckles bled. Completely spent, she slumped against it, sliding to the floor and cradling her face as she wept. The horror on his face would forever be etched into her memory.


	24. Irredivivous - unable to be revived - Garrett Hawke x Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Irredivivous - unable to be revived.

“I’ve always been…so proud”

Silence. Damnable silence. No intake of breath, no cough or croak to continue on. Her body hung limp in his arms, blood seeping through the sheer white fabric. A wrenching pause, followed by a gentle shake. Anders hung back as Hawke shook her again, harder this time. His eyes were glazed, confused, waiting for a movement that would never come.

“Mother.” It was barely above a whisper, but Anders heard the single word, laden with sorrow and regret. He clutched her body tighter, realisation hitting with a gasp for air. Wildly he looked around, sunken eyes fixing on Anders.

“Heal her.”

“I’m so sorry, Hawke.” He held out apologetic hands, feet scuffing through the dirt as he stumbled closer “She was kept alive by Quentin’s magic. I…I…can’t…I-” Words were cut off by Hawke’s wail, his head thrown back as tears coursed down blood-crusted cheeks. Anders fell to his knees, his own vision blurring as his love turned back, eyes pleading.

“I’m…sorry, love.” He watched, heart shattering as Hawke shrank before his eyes, his vibrant, cocky Hawke broken and shivering, lost and disbelieving. Anders shuffled closer, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder. Garrett flinched, eventually leaning into the caress.

“I should have saved her.” He cradled her body, rocking slightly as eyes flickered over her sickly complexion, sobbing as he ran a finger over the suture lines circling her neck. Sliding his arm around hunched shoulders, Anders gently pulled Garrett closer, encircling him in warmth, comfort, anything that he could give.

“You did Garrett, you did.” Hawke wept as he nodded, slowly letting the body slide to the floor. His shaking hand stretched forward to carefully close lifeless eyes. Anders let him position her hands neatly across her chest, straighten her veil and dress, before reaching forward to quiet his manic touches. Pulling limp arms around his waist, he hugged Garrett to him tightly, burying his face in his fur collar as their bodies shook with grief. Garrett gripped him so tightly, painfully crushing him close, but it was what he needed; what Anders needed to be. He had decided, years ago, that he would go to the void and back for this man.  

Fingers curled into the hair at his nape, grip lessening as Garrett leant his forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed. Hot breath tingled against his skin as Hawke took deep gulps, forcing the heartache down, swallowing his misery. Anders paced his breathing with his, unconsciously bringing hands up to cup  his love’s face, thumbs sweeping away the tears as Hawke fought for control. Eventually blue eyes cracked open, hollow, dead, with acceptance. Garrett slid his hands from Anders’ slender frame, hesitating to brush a kiss across his forehead before standing.

Anders grimaced as Hawke strode off, scooping to pick his sword from the floor, to then shoulder through the door. Still knelt in dirt and gore, he rubbed hands roughly over his tear-stained face. The Garrett Hawke he knew was no more, his soul now etched with weeping sores, old scars ripped open and scored anew. All Anders could do was hope. Hope, that for once, he _could_ heal a Hawke.


	25. Diffibulate - to unbutton, unfasten, or unbuckle - Cullen x f!Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Diffibulate: to unbutton, unfasten, or unbuckle.
> 
> For Cullen x f!Hawke (If you've not read ChickPea92's Hawken fic, go remedy it now ^^ Very nsfw xD)

Cullen threw down the quill with sigh, stretching arms above his head as far as the restrictive armour would allow. Rotating an aching shoulder, he sat back, shaking his head at the remaining pile of papers. He was a soldier. If he had known the majority of work as Commander was report shuffling and bureaucracy, the promotion would have been less welcomed. It was times like this he wished he was with the Inquisitor, out in the field, battling demons and closing rifts. Smirking at the fantasy, he cracked his wrist and leant forward to continue. The Inquisition needed him as a Commander, questionable writing skills and all.

Squinting at the next report, he paid no attention to the soft clunk of tumblers turning, or the faint click of a lock. He regularly had messengers creep in and drop things on his desk – food, water, more papers for his stack. They knew not to disturb him. The presence this time seemed to hover, hesitant, no quick deposit and escape as per usual.

“Well, what is it? I’m busy.” Cullen’s gaze stayed fixed to the desk, scanning over troop requests for outposts in the Hissing Wastes. Darkspawn activity was on the rise, harassing Inquisition patrols. Two men had been killed. Pulling out a fresh piece of parchment, he dipped the nib into ink, and began scrawling. Whoever was in his office still lingered, silent.

“Speak, or leave. I don’t have time for -” On lifting his gaze, teeth gritted in annoyance, he halted abruptly. Hawke stood before his desk, smirking in that insufferable manner he knew all too well. Her arms were crossed, chin resting in a hand as she raised an eyebrow.

“You’re quite the bastard when you’re working.” Meeting her grin with a glare, he dropped the pen and sat back, crossing his arms with a huff.

“Why are you here?” She tutted, perching herself on his desk, peering down at the scrawl of his note.

“Mmm, maybe just a bastard in general then.” He fixed the glare, not moving as she chuckled. If he learnt one thing from his time with Hawke, it was not to rise to the challenge. Unless…Cullen felt his gaze wander at the thought, taking in the soft, loose shirt and tight breeches. Her fingers toyed with lacing at her neck, memories flooding forward of the frantic dance of pulling it over her head; of yanking down her trousers and pulling her close. He cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter as she leant forward.

“I came to distract you, _Templar_ , and I see it’s working’. Hawke leered at him, looking him over with no attempt at hiding her intentions. _Maker_. Closing his eyes, he steadied his breathing, focussing his thoughts away from Hawke. Away from her body, from her soft lips, from her…Groaning in frustration he stood, turning away from temptation to look from his window. The sun was sliding behind snowy peaks, the ice glinting a lusty red from the deep hues of the sunset. Lights flickered from the camps down in the valley – his troops. The ones he commanded. The ones he needed to keep his head clear for, to lead without distraction. Bolstering his resolve, Cullen straightened, turning stiffly to administer his refusal.

With a look it shattered. Stood again, lithe fingers were tugging loose ties, trailing soft skin as the shirt fell from her shoulders, crumpling to the floor. Grinning in triumph, she slowly popped a button on her breeches, then paused, hand hovering.

“Well?” Scowling, he reached up to start fumbling with the buckles of his armour, grumpy in defeat. Laughing, she rewarded him with another button as the pauldron slid from his shoulder.

“I hate you.”

“Mmm, your actions would suggest otherwise.”


End file.
